


oh, what a world

by damntrobed



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, coffee shop owner troy barnes, flower shop owner abed nadir, its so soft, so so soft, yes i combined two different au tropes and made this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damntrobed/pseuds/damntrobed
Summary: ...and then there was you.this is the softest fucking shit i've ever written i know this is supposed to be a summary but i have no clue where this is going i just know it's gonna be soft
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	oh, what a world

**Author's Note:**

> anybody who's ever read anything i've ever written knows i write a fuck ton of angst and for once. just once. i wanted there to be no angst. no hurt. just good and nice and soft and cute. cus sad just isn't it right now.  
> i am willing to guarantee right now that this will be pure straight fluff. do i know anything about the plot after this chapter? fuck no. do i know that it is just going to be so pure, so sweet, so gentle? yes.  
> hope everyone's been doing okay lately.  
> be happy, be safe, be well.  
> much love to you all <3

Troy steps down off the bus early in the morning and let’s out a yawn, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his face as the bus pulls away. When he opens his eyes he sees a tall, gangly kid across the street glide off of his bike and slide it into the bike rack, pulling a chain and lock out of his backpack. Troy watches lazily as the kid focuses hard on weaving the chain through the bike and locks it up tight, giving himself a small nod before turning around and heading into the small flower shop. 

Troy looks both ways and crosses the street, heading into the coffee shop next store, the morning chill falling off his shoulders as the heat from inside washes over him. 

—

It happens this way for a few weeks. Troy steps off the bus on the opposite side of the street just as the kid next door rides up. He watches him lock his bike up and then heads across the street to open up the shop. 

He’s there for almost an hour before his coworker shows up and they actually open for business, and as he listens to the quiet lofi he puts on over the speakers, he finds himself thinking a little more every day about what the guy next door must be like. 

_Is he quiet? Does he have a lot of friends? Does he like to go out and get something to eat on his lunch break or does he pack himself a lunch from home? Does he like to dance?_

Troy thinks of that last one as he sweeps the floor and pretends to twirl around the room with the broom in his hands, wishing instead that it was the dreamy guy next door. 

—

Abed notices the cute guy who rides the bus to work every morning after the first couple of days. He always looks a little tired because he yawns almost every time he gets off the bus, but he has this cute little smile like he’s excited to go to work every day. It certainly wasn’t aimed at Abed specifically, they didn’t even know each other.

Abed starts to smile back at him after a couple of weeks, and it becomes their silent greeting. He gets off the bus just as Abed approaches the bike rack, and when he finishes locking it all up, he looks up and gives the guy a smile before turning inside to go to work. Sometimes he waves at Abed, other mornings he quickly looks down at his shoes like he doesn’t want to look at Abed too long, but he always has a smile on his face.

On this particular morning, the coffee shop boy is wearing a particularly nice yellow sweater that makes him look like the sun when he smiles at Abed. He waves excitedly at Abed, and Abed lifts his hand and gives it a small shake in return, unable to take his eyes off of him. Eventually they both put their arms down, and Abed turns to walk inside his own store. He can’t stop replaying the whole interaction in his head while he sets up inside to get ready to open.

He’s still thinking about how bright his smile is when he hears the faint ding of the bell on the front door. 

“Um, hello?” a voice calls into the shop. Abed pokes his head from around the corner, and fails miserably to hide his smile. 

“Hi.” he says softly, setting down the plant he’s holding and walks to the front to meet the boy from next door. 

“Hi.” he smiles. He extends a cup out to Abed, a smiley face drawn on the side. “My name is Troy. I realized we come into work at about the same time, thought you might like something to drink.”

Abed tilts his head gently to the side. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker. But thanks.” he says, taking the cup gently from Troy’s hand, their fingertips brushing. He ignores the way he feels a tingle in his spine when they touch. 

“Oh, me neither. It’s hot chocolate.” Troy says sheepishly. “Hope you like that.” 

Abed smiles. “I like it a lot.” 

They gently tap their cups together, and Abed can’t help but smile at the way Troy grins and looks down at his shoes. 

“I’m Abed.” he says dumbly, sticking his free hand out. Troy giggles and shakes it, looking back up again. 

“Abed. What a nice name.”

“Thank you. I like Troy a lot, too.” 

“Thanks.” Troy breathes out, and he looks around him, admiring all of the potted plants displayed around the front of the store. “This place is really cute. Is it just you?” 

“For now, yes. But it’s pretty manageable. I don’t have as many people coming in and out as the coffee shop does.” Abed says, following Troy as he walks over to a stand of flowers against the back wall. 

“That’s really too bad. I’d be in here all the time if I wasn’t working.” 

“Do you like plants?” Abed asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“I don’t know much about them besides the fact that they’re pretty. So is the guy behind the counter.” Troy says, turning his head to give Abed a smile. 

Abed is not one to be easily flustered, but he feels a small blush creep up his cheeks at Troy’s compliment. He can’t get anything out of his open mouth before Troy checks his watch. 

“Shit. Gotta head back. It’s almost time to open.” he gives Abed a sad smile. 

Abed watches as he walks back to the front of the store, and doesn’t work through his brain-to-mouth filter when he blurts out “I think you’re pretty, too.” 

Troy gives him a big smile and nods his head at the cup in Abed’s hand. “I wrote my number on the inside of the sleeve. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He waves as he pushes the door open, the faint jingle of the bell ringing in Abed’s head. 

Abed undoes the paper hook in the notch of the sleeve and carefully takes it off the cup, grinning widely at the number scrawled on the inside surrounded by lots of little doodles. Flowers, bikes, hearts, smiley faces. They practically covered this side of the sleeve.

Abed goes behind the counter and pulls out a small, empty box and places the sleeve inside, pulling his phone out to put in Troy’s number to a new contact page.

—

Troy waits anxiously all morning for his phone to buzz. He checks it so often that Britta snatches it out of his hand and holds it out of reach from him. 

“Hey, c’mon Britta-”

“You’ve been checking this thing _obsessively_ all morning. And you _never_ check your phone.” Britta says. “I know we’re not super busy right now but the three people that are here would probably appreciate it if you noticed they were standing at the counter right away without having to clear their throats.” 

Troy drops his outstretched hand, defeated. “Sorry. I’m just...waiting for something.” 

“Something, huh?” she says, a teasing grin showing up on her face. 

“Yeah, something.” Troy says back almost defensively, and he makes a quick move for the phone but Britta swings it away from him. 

“Look, I’m leaving after 12:30. Whatever or _whoever_ it is you’re waiting for, I’m sure it can hang out until I dip.” Britta says, tucking her phone into her apron. “And then you can have it back.” 

Troy drops his head back so his face is towards the ceiling and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Fine. Can you go organize the pastries in the back at least instead of torturing me up front?”

“Sure thing.” Britta smiles, and walks away towards the small back room. Troy stands at the counter and plays peek-a-boo with a baby sitting in a high chair who won’t stop looking at him. 

The day moves slower than a snail’s pace, and the longer it drones on the more antsy Troy gets. By noon he’s swept the place four times, reorganized the mugs and glasses three times, and redone the entire pastry display case twice. Around one, Britta emerges from the back room, a familiar grin on her face. 

“Seriously?” Troy groans, shaking his head playfully. “No fair.”

“Just a little one.” Britta pinches her fingers close together. “Besides. I technically was off the clock a half hour ago.” 

“Did you even get a chance to organize the pastries first?” Troy can’t help but crack a small grin, wishing he was the one who had been out back smoking a joint instead of her. Maybe he’d be less nervous if he had. 

“Of course. And I counted yesterday’s cash and tips. All you have to do is turn the chairs over by the time you close.” She pulls Troy’s phone out of her apron and hands it back to him lazily. “You’re free to scroll again.” 

Troy holds the phone in his hand and shakes it slightly. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

Britta winks before taking her apron off and hanging it on the hook by the back door. “See you later.” 

Troy’s hands feel clammy, unable to bring himself to look at the screen. He holds his breath as he turns it on and…

Nothing. At least, no text from an unknown number that says something along the lines of _hey it’s Abed from next door I think you’re cute and we should definitely go out sometime and maybe even kiss._

Okay. Troy didn’t think it would say that _exactly_. But something to that effect would’ve worked. 

But instead he was met with empty notifications and a shockingly low battery percentage for the time of day. He sighs and shoves it into his pocket, not even looking up at the door when he hears the bell ring. 

“Welcome in, what can I get started for you?” Troy says absentmindedly.

“Oh, nothing, actually. I just wanted to bring you these.” Troy looks up and is met with the kindest smile he’s ever seen. Abed’s holding a small bouquet of daffodils in a clear, glass vase. “They reminded me of your sweatshirt, and I’ve had a pretty slow day. Thought I’d return the favor for the hot chocolate. It was really good, by the way.” 

Troy reaches out a slightly shaky hand to take the small vase, and leans his nose down to smell them. 

“These are...gorgeous, Abed.” Troy looks up at him with a beaming smile. “Thank you so much.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Abed smiles, looking around the coffee shop. He walks over to the small bookcase against the back wall and runs his fingers over the edge of the plush couch beside it. “This place is very cozy.” 

“Thanks.” Troy smiles. “I kind of put everything I had into this place after my mom handed it over to me. She always wanted people to know they could come here to relax. I’m just trying to keep her image with it.” 

Abed looks at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s lovely.” They stand in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. Troy probably has a dopey grin on his face but he doesn’t care. “What time are you done with work?” 

“We close at 3. I just have to do a little bit of cleaning so I’ll probably be done around...3:30?” 

“Could I take you to lunch?” Abed asks, and Troy thinks his heart skips a beat. 

“That sounds nice.” Troy breathes out, setting down the vase gently before it falls out of his trembling hands. 

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Abed smiles. “Bye, Troy.” 

“See you.” Troy waves at Abed’s back as he walks out the door. He looks at the flowers and lets out a giggle, giddy over the fact that Abed was _thinking_ about him at all. He leans down to inspect them closer, and finds a small tag wrapped gently around one of the stems. He undoes it carefully and inspects the neat lettering. 

_Bright and yellow like the sun. These are and so are you. Abed_

With a small heart drawn next to his name. 

Troy takes out his wallet and sticks the small piece of paper in one of the pockets inside, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 

—

The next two hours pass as slow as molasses, a particularly painful theme for the day. He’s wiping down the tables when he hears the bell ring from the door.

“Sorry, we’re- oh, hi Abed.” Troy grins widely, sticking his rag in his back pocket. “I’m almost done cleaning up and then we can go.”

“No worries.” Abed says, rocking back and forth on his heels. He looks standoffish and barely awkward as he stands in the doorway, and Troy lets out a small chuckle. “You can sit down, you know. You won’t be in my way.” 

“Oh. Sure.” Abed says, giving Troy a small smile before walking over to the couch. He’s sitting for no more than a minute before he pops up again, taking Troy’s attention away from his cleaning. “Can I help do anything?” 

Troy stands up straight and looks around. He can tell Abed doesn’t want to just sit around while Troy cleans, so he points at the front tables, closest to the door. “I’ve already cleaned those first few tables. Do you think you could flip the chairs on top of them?” Troy asks gently, and smiles as Abed lets out a sigh and gives him a thumbs up. 

What normally would take Troy a half hour or more only takes fifteen minutes with Abed’s help, and he’s happy to be able to have even just a little bit more time to spend with Abed.

“Ready to go?” Troy asks, taking his apron off and hanging it on the small hook over Britta’s. 

“Yep, ready to go.” Abed confirms, waiting at the edge of the counter. Troy holds the front door open for Abed to exit out of and locks the door behind them. When he turns around he sees Abed’s hand barely outstretched, and Troy’s heart soars as he gingerly takes Abed’s hand and laces their fingers together.

He feels Abed give his hand a small squeeze as they start walking, and Troy squeezes it back.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at damntrobed on tumblr


End file.
